Insanity
by CharryWotter
Summary: A dark story focusing on Germany's mental struggle under Hitler's control. He and Prussia aren't doing so well, but who would be if they were forced to kill their own citizens on a daily basis? / Warning: this story is dark and contains some gore as well as talk of mental illness
1. Insane

I was just feeling angsty and this was the result...

I'll probably add at least a second chapter-there's a certain Pole who will show up and help Germany out~

This chapter is mostly Germany's musings, though.

...

Ludwig Beilschmidt was going insane.

It was something he'd secretly known for a while, his insanity, and while accepting it was hard, Ludwig decided that running from it was harder.

Ludwig's insanity wasn't the stereotypical insanity where one would be foaming at the mouth and smiling so hard their face seemed ready to split. No, that kind of insanity was easier to spot and less harmful. That kind of insanity was reserved to Oliver Kirkland and his poisoned cupcakes.

Ludwig's insanity was darker. Sometimes it caused him to get lost inside of his mind and reemerge, shaking, after hours had passed. Other times it would sent him into a fully blown panic attack where nothing could calm him down.

Ludwig hated when his insanity took control, but if he really was being honest, he preferred intense bouts of fear to numbness.

Unfortunately, he was slowly becoming desensitized.

Ludwig hadn't always been so unhinged; it had started with one confident speaker running for power of his country from the National Socialist German Workers' Party. That speaker had wormed his way into the hearts of the Germans, including Ludwig, leaving all of them blind to the impending danger.

Everything went downhill once said speaker was named chancellor of Germany.

If you haven't guessed by now, the speaker was Adolf Hitler.

From the get go, Hitler refused to listen to Ludwig. "Germany will either be a world power or will not be at all," he once said when Ludwig tried to convince him not to expand the Gestapo.

"I have no need to be a world power!" Ludwig had cried. Now he could fully understand what his own response meant. It would be amazing if Germany ran the world. But were all the murdered Jews worth the expansion of his country? Ludwig knew they were not. Not at all.

When Hitler began sending Jews to concentration camps and leaving them in ghettos in the worst conditions, Ludwig could feel each death as a sharp pain in his heart. No matter what the chancellor said, Jews were still German citizens.

As Germany's other half, Gilbert could feel the deaths too, although not as strongly. At the beginning, he would argue with Ludwig for hours about what the right thing to do was, spewing Hitler's propaganda line by line, and they would stop speaking to each other for a few days after each fight.

Around 1939, once the violence against Jews had risen and Hitler made plans to invade Poland, Gilbert realized what a fool he'd been to listen to the dictator.

Ludwig hated the way he began to find Gilbert inebriated in bars; hated the way Gilbert tried to use alcohol to drown the hole in his heart and forget his deep sorrow. Gilbert used to be a loud, rambunctious drunk, but while his citizens were being murdered daily, Gilbert sunk into a depression when under the influence. He also sunk into depression sober.

Gilbert rarely drank now, and he no longer seemed to fall into dark moods. Instead, Prussia was much worse. He was utterly numb to the pain, watching countless Jews get slaughtered each day without blinking an eye. Nothing seemed to bother him anymore, and he was almost always unresponsive, showing no emotion.

It scared Ludwig to see the East half of his country so…broken, especially because he knew he'd soon end up the same way, the way his mental state was turning.

To make things worse, Hitler often forced the brothers to go to concentration camps; to see the "progress" and sometimes even take part in the violence.

It broke Ludwig's heart to see the suffering of his own people and not be able to do a thing about it.

"—land!"

At the yell, Ludwig blearily looked around, finding himself to be in the Fuhrer Headquarters, sitting at a table that was covered in maps and various battle strategies. He groaned. Apparently, Ludwig had zoned out and lost himself in his mind. Again.

ʺDEUTSCHLAND!"

Hitler's second shout startled Ludwig, and the country looked up, face hardening. "Ja, mine Fuhrer?"

Hitler's face reddened at the thought of having to repeat himself. "I said, one of my soldiers reported that a filthy subhuman is asking about 'Ludwig Beilschmidt'! Go deal with him!"

Ludwig sighed as confusion and dread wrestled for control of his mind. He wasn't sure if any of his Jewish citizens knew his human name, but whoever it was, he pitied them. "Deal with him," in Hitler speak meant either "Kill," or "Torture, then kill," so Ludwig was about to end the Jew's life.

It wouldn't be the first citizen of his that Ludwig was forced to kill, but each person had their own scream and pleas that were seared into his memory.

It wasn't like he could disobey his Boss, though.

Ludwig sighed and got up, already imagining the red blood that would soon be spurting onto the ground. His hands shook as he pictured the horror on his victim's face, and the glint of life in their eye that would be extinguished so quickly.

Why did his country have to go through this? Ludwig pictured innocent Feliciano being forced to commit such horrid acts, and a mangled laugh threatened to bubble out of him.

He sometimes wished that he could be the one getting killed instead. He wished he could finally be free of all the guilt, the pain, the memories, that all haunted every waking moment.

He closed his eyes, taking another moment to listen to the screams echoing inside his mind.

Ludwig Beilschmidt was going insane.

...

Reviews would be appreciated :)


	2. Violent

Thank you, LovesReasdingFanfiction234, for your review! Also, thanks to anyone who followed or favorited!

…

It seemed that the violence would never end.

When Ludwig reached the concentration camp, he steadied himself with a deep breath. The yells of soldiers and crunch of boots on gravel filled his ears, and his hands shook as he remembered his previous visits of the concentration camp.

Ludwig glared at nothing in particular, clenching his gloved hand into a fist. "'The day of individual happiness has passed,'" he quoted. If only he could believe his boss' words.

Entering through the gate, Ludwig walked up to a German soldier who was supervising Jews working.

"You must be Mr. Beilschmidt," the soldier said. His piercing stare made Ludwig feel like his mind was being read.

"That's right," Ludwig responded stiffly. "I heard someone asked to see me?"

The soldier motioned to one of the barracks. "He's alone in there. Take as long as you need."

Ludwig shuddered internally at the thought of what he had to do, and gave the soldier a nod before walking over to where the Jew would be.

What if it was a young boy? An innocent child? Would he be able to follow through on Hitler's orders?

"I have no choice," he whispered.

Opening the door, Ludwig peered inside.

The lone Jew sat on the floor about halfway down the building. His back faced Ludwig, shoulder-length blond hair partly tucked into the collar of the dirty pink button-up he had on.

Ludwig's legs wobbled underneath him. It couldn't be. Not him.

Sure, Germany had invaded Poland. But was the country really mistaken for a citizen and taken to a concentration camp?

Ludwig cleared his throat, and the person turned his head to peer over his shoulder. It was Poland.

"Germany," he said in a scratchy voice. "Like, I've been asking for you."

Closing the door of the barracks and strolling towards Poland, Ludwig cracked his knuckles menacingly. "I'm here now," he growled, façade of hate fully in place.

Before he could think about it, Ludwig drew his fist back and punched Feliks in the face.

Feliks sprawled to the side, not trying to fight back or defend himself. Instead, he looked at Ludwig with pity in his eyes.

Staring hard at the ground to avoid making any more eye contact, Ludwig began kicking Feliks as he lay curled up on the ground. "You filthy Jew," he said, kicking extra hard when his voice cracked slightly. "Your citizens are ruining the world."

Ludwig grabbed Feliks' collar and pulled him up the wall, punching Poland's face with his free arm. Blood splattered his glove and he began punching harder, as if that would make it better.

Feliks gasped softly as Ludwig punched his face the fifth or sixth time, and that did it.

Ludwig released him, unable to look at his swollen, bloody face. Keeping his eyes averted, Ludwig pulled out his gun. He pointed it at Feliks. "I am sorry."

Feliks wiped a trail of blood from his face. "I know. It's okay. I can tell you hate this as much as me. If it will really make you feel better, go ahead and kill me. Like, you have me beaten."

Ludwig's finger quivered on the trigger, but refused to obey his brain's signals to end the Jew's life. "I can't do it," he whispered just loudly enough for Feliks to hear. "Why can't I do it?"

"It doesn't have to be like this, you know." Feliks flashed a sad smile.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ludwig tried to pretend that he wasn't desperately hoping for a way out of this; that he was fine. That they were all fine. He slowly lowered his gun.

Feliks seemed to see beneath Germany's emotional armor as he stared at Ludwig with the beginnings of two black eyes. "Hitler can be stopped. All these horrible deaths, like, you don't have to have them. We both know this isn't healthy."

Ludwig's eyes darted nervously to the closed door, making sure nobody was coming, before sinking to the ground besides Feliks and dropping the gun with a clatter. "I can't stop him. He's my boss," he whispered, drawing his knees up to his chest.

"Like, let me help you." Feliks' eyes shone with hope. "I bet Liet and his brothers are willing to help, too."

"This is madness." Ludwig wasn't sure if he was arguing against Feliks or the voice inside his head. "The führer has complete control. Just ask Gilbert or Roderich."

"Austria was in kind of a similar position to me, huh?"

Ludwig, Gilbert, and Feliks weren't the only countries stuck under Hitler's rule. The previous year, Austria had been invaded. Unlike Poland, Roderich had not been sent to a concentration camp, but directly to Hitler himself as per the dictator's orders.

Recognizing himself as weak and Hitler as strong, Roderich had no choice but to obey Hitler and became one of his advisors, working alongside Ludwig and Gilbert.

How many lives were the three of them responsible for taking? Very, very many. Even worse, the number only continued to rise.

Ludwig was startled out of his terrifying thoughts by Feliks snapping in front of his face. He hadn't realized he'd been spacing out again.

"Oh my god," Feliks said, clearly concerned. "You're not okay. I knew it was bad, but I didn't know it was this bad."

Ludwig grimaced. "With so many of my citizens dying daily, some at my own hands…how could I be okay?" He had no idea why he was being so honest—it probably had something to do with his desperation—his need to be saved.

Not that he could admit that to anyone, though. Ludwig doubted anyone would understand. Poland seemed to come pretty close, though.

Feliks nodded at Ludwig with sad determination. "That's decided. I'm, like, gonna get you out of this mess."

Maybe the violence could end after all.

…

Will Ludwig be saved?

Can Feliks really help him?

Or is it too late?

You'll all know as soon as I do! :P


End file.
